The Great Game
by thebluefrenchhorn
Summary: "We're creatures of balance. We play by the rules. The path to balance just isn't always pretty." No human should have absolute power-not even the Avatar-so it seems only fair that the Spirits send one of their own to keep them in check.
1. Chapter 1

**The Great Game**

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 **Chapter One: A Creature of Balance**

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"We never quite agreed upon whether I was dead."

Golden eyes flickered upward to the figure before them, a calculating glint hidden in their depths. "The other spirits tell me I am, but I don't believe them. It didn't feel like I died." She resisted the urge to smirk. "I'm a people person you could say. I'm pretty good at telling when someone's lying, even if said person has had a millennia to perfect their technique."

The body of a large insect seemed to wrap around the girl like a cloak of shadows; the sound of a thousand little legs clicking in the hollowed out area. A white mask attached to a monstrous body appears before her. "You're not human enough to die."

The voice is silky and smooth, yet it sends shivers down her back. She rather likes the voice; it reminds her of her own.

Segmented legs brush over her face and arms, the creature only inches away from her. "You're barley human at all."

The girl's face remains blank, but the eyes are still glinting; burning like the dying sun as the sky passes into night. "Is this your way of calling me a monster Koh?"

The face leans closer, and she can feel Koh's breath fanning her ear. "It's not a bad thing to be a monster," his body seems to wrap tighter around hers. "Coming from me it's really more of a compliment."

Suddenly he pulls back, the white mask being replaced by pale skin and pouty lips—she is struck by the resemblance it bares to her. "They'll never tell you the truth. They're just as scared of you, as their scared of me. They don't like people who play by the rules."

"We're kindred spirits, you and I," she recites back to him like a mantra. They are not lovers, nor will they ever be, but they understand each other, like they understand themselves. They're two heads of the same beast.

Koh chuckles darkly. His face switches to that of a pirate, then to a blind girl—woman—woman—man—woman—until finally back to the original white mask. "We're creatures of balance. We play by the rules." He now has the face of a beautiful woman that is distinctly water tribe. "The path to balance just isn't always pretty."

He pauses. She knows he's inspecting her.

"What a beautiful face," he finally murmurs, "if only I could have it."

She keeps her face blank, despite her desire to slip on a chilling smirk. "You can't take something from yourself—I'm your other half. You need me."

He circles around her like a Lionsnake does to their prey. "Oh, but I think you need me more. . . Azula."

Koh has a dark sense of humor, but it is one that she can respect.

It is clear that the conversation is done, and Azula allows a smirk to form on her face once Koh's tree is no more than a spec behind her. She does not trust him within seeing distance, after all, she wouldn't trust herself.

She does not know how long she's been trapped in the Spirit World, but she knows it's been a while, or at least it's been certainly long enough for her to come across most of the spirits.

The spirits are fickle creatures. They do not see right or wrong, nor black or white. The world is far too beautiful to only be seen in those colors. She thinks of them as a double-edged sword. A weapon so vast and powerful, but equally as likely to end their owner as his enemies

Azula almost feels a sense of kinship with them, but not quite. None of them can truly compare to Koh.

She's much more of a spirit, than a human—it's believable that her lack of humanity is what keeps her living.

She's almost forgotten what it feels like to be human, to be hungry, to be tired; to feel the pounding of blood in her ears. But, even as a human, life was always more of a game to her.

Yes, it was a very fun game because Azula always won.

Zuko, Uncle, Mother. . . they didn't understand the Great Game. They did not play by the rules.

Oh, how her dear brother had constantly berated her as a cheat, echoing the mantra of "Azula always lies". He was far too human; too caught up in his own selfish desires and journeys to attain honor and righteous. He did not understand the balance. Not many did.

Yin. Yang. Tui. La. The world was comprised of both light and dark. Zuko was the epitome of light; their father the essence of darkness. Azula fancies herself gray.

Mother called her a monster. This makes Azula laugh. If a monster is someone without moral codes, than she is correct. Moral codes are only a set of ideal behaviors and concepts about love and humility. Mother was always such a sap. You cannot know love without hate.

Zuko called her insane. He is wrong. Azula is much saner than he could ever wish for. She is not constantly warring between figurative notions of good and evil. Her downfall was no more than a reminder from the spirits. She plays by the rules, but so do others.

Father thought he could control her. He was delusional. She is not a weapon, something that can be controlled. It's ironic that he thought himself to be so important, when he really was no more than a speck in the world, and washed away by history.

The Water Tribe peasant thought she beat her. Azula does not consider her worth her time. She's a cheat, so why worry about having revenge. The balance will punish those who do not play the Great Game correctly.

The Earth Kingdom girl—Bei Fong—has a little bit of her respect. She understands how the game is played, even if she is not a player herself. Azula thinks that maybe in a different life, they could have understood each other. She refuses to say friends. She is above mindless clichés.

The Avatar is too forgiving. For a creature born from balance, he does not understand it. The Avatar has certain duties, and if he neglects them Koh will take what he wants, as will she. Killing is a necessity to maintain balance, but the monk favors his airbending heritage far too much compared to the wilder element of fire and the stubborn element of earth. That will be his downfall.

Ty Lee and Mai feared her. It was smart of them. They should've, she played by the rules.

It is in that moment that Azula feels the long forgotten sensation of warmth erupting within her chest, and she closes her eyes as the heat washes over her. She is reborn in fire, flames, and smoke—a renegade into a new world.

A smirk makes its way onto her face even before her eyes flutter open.

She feels her blood pumping in her veins.

Azula was spared by the balance, so it only seemed fair that she returned the favor.

Her reentrance to the world is met by a blinding gold. . .

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 **Disclaimer:** All rights reserved to the original creators

 **Reviews are always welcome**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Great Game**

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 **Chapter Two: The Mask of a Peasant**

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"Thank the spirits you're alive!"

Azula's battle trained eyes glance at the figure for a quick second, recording his strength and weaknesses and cataloging his appearance in her head, while internally chuckling at the choice of words.

He is tall and wiry, made for speed and agility rather than strength, and there is tenseness in his muscles. His eyes, which had originally appeared golden before, are in reality more of a tangerine, and this coloring combined with the heat admitting from him draws Azula to believe he is a firebender; one clearly lacking in any decent training. Azula knew how to control her temperature by the time she was eight, while the figure before her must be at least fifteen years old and still doesn't have the same capability. Pity not everybody could be a prodigy like herself.

Her analysis is completed in less than ten seconds, which really isn't much of a surprise. Azula strives for perfection.

She wants to glance around the room they're in, to size up any escape routes or threats, but doing so may cause suspicion. She instead settles on averting her eyes to the floor. Let him think she is weak. Azula has always been good at tricking others.

He falls right into her trap. "Are you all right?" His voice is a scratchy and rough, like Zuko's after he went through puberty, and Azula mentally raises his age to sixteen in her head.

She wills herself to stay looking down as he slowly shuffles towards her, and harshly clenches her fists. Her sharp nails dig into her palms causing them to bleed and tears to prick her eyes. Perfect.

"Hey, it's going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right." His voice has taken on a soothing quality and he seems sure of himself, like he's comforted somebody before. "You're safe now."

By now the boy is kneeled in front of her, tentatively putting his hands on her shoulders. It takes all of Azula's self-control not to burn him to a crisp. Ugh. A peasant is touching her.

"My name is Mako. What's your name?"

Azula responds with the first name that comes to her head and praises herself as she manages to put a quiver in her voice. "Ty Lee."

A smile instantly adorns the peasant's, Mako's, face. It is all flashing white on his pale skin, slightly darker than the normal coloring of a firebender, and up close Azula notes his bone structures similarity to Mai's. Like the deadly knife thrower, he is all sharp angles and points. "That's a very pretty name," he responds, clearly thinking he's made progress.

No, he definitely doesn't realize he's being played a fool. Azula's fried (literally) much bigger turtleducks than him. This Mako fellow shouldn't be all that hard to wrap around her finger. She may not be a flirt, but Azula's always been a brilliant actor.

"Thanks." Her voice is shy, weary and as un-Azula-like as possible. "W-why am I h-here? I haven't s-stolen any food in w-weeks." It's a gut instinct for Azula to say the last part, based off the peasant's threadbare clothing he may sympathize. She is rewarded with the softening of his eyes at her words. This is far too easy.

"My brother Bolin," he has a brother she notes, another possible threat, "and I found you in a back street passed out, and we couldn't just leave you there so we brought you back to our apartment of sorts." Apartment...so she's in their home.

"Thank you." She replies, keeping her eyes downcast.

"It was no problem. Where do you live?" He pauses, realizing what he asked her and a blush began forming on his face. Azula almost rolled her eyes at the sight. He definitely didn't have any formal training if he couldn't control his own blush. "Not that I want to know...or anything...I just want to make sure you know...get home safely."

Agni, was that boy a mess.

"I actually don't have a home," Azula murmured, the first truth to escape her mouth in their conversation. "I don't have anybody there for me." Her second trap is being set, now all she needs is for him to go for the bait.

He stares at her questioningly, and Azula curses. He may have been very gullible so far, but he's not completely without self-preservation. If she wants a place to stay, (and he seems like the best option) she's going to have to work harder. She might as well lay it on thick.

Her nails dig deeper into her skin, drawing more blood and tears. She may be a predator, but she's killed enough prey to know how one acts. "I have no place to go and I've been just surviving off what I can steal." Yes, it is certainly a magnificent sight to see an apex predator like Azula, pleading for a place to stay. Koh was probably dying from laughter, if he was watching her. Damn him.

When the first tear drips off of her face and onto the ground, the peasant's uncertainty shatters, replaced once again by warm eyes and white smiles. "You can stay here with us," he responds, "only if you want to of course," he adds onto the end nervously.

Azula wonders if all men are so indecisive throughout puberty. Zuko was, but she had always just chalked that up to him being Zuko, and of course she had never associated herself with any other boys around her age. She was royalty. She was above them. She didn't need them.

But, of course things were different now. Azula wasn't considered royalty at the moment, and she needed this boy before her to provide her with information on the present. So, despite her pride telling her to do otherwise, Azula let a small smile tug onto her lips as she responds. "Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me."

The peasant begins blushing once again and Azula feels pure satisfaction. She knows she is beautiful; Ty Lee used to tell her all the time, but to see what an effect she has on people while in her current state certainly strokes her ego.

Azula has always been an excellent gambler, rolling the dice of her troops and enemies fate, so she'd bet her royal lineage that she appears exactly the same way she did in the mental asylum before her impromptu trip to the Spirit World.

If this is the case, her hair is far from its normal silky black state, and instead matted and greasy and her skin an almost translucent white. Azula is far from the beautiful princess she once was, but she is still undeniably attractive. It is only icing on the cake that this peasant before her agrees. It'll make him so much easier to manipulate, if only she could remember exactly how Ty Lee used to flirt.

But if Ty Lee could do it, she certainly could too. After all, Azula wasn't top of her class at the Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls for no reason.

"Do you need any help getting up?"

Azula's eyes lazily meet the gaze of the peasant, and she internally smirks when she notices his blush has finally disappeared.

"We have some food for dinner," so it must be late at night, "it's not a lot, but it's all we have. You probably understand, right?"

"Yah," Azula responds. She really doesn't understand, but it's better for the peasant to believe she does. In reality she's never been hungry in her life. Being royal had its perks, even when you were locked in a mental asylum. Despite this, the lie slides off her tongue like melted butter, "a lot of nights I've had to go without any food."

Mako nods in understanding, a dark look momentarily settling on his face, "it's just so unfair that people like us have to starve, while you have people like the Sato's living it up." The glare quickly disappears, and is replaced by warmth and kindness once more. "But, I can assure you that since you're with Bolin and me now, you'll never starve another night."

"Thanks," Azula says in response. If she has to thank this idiotic peasant one more time she thinks she'll have to kill something...or someone. Preferably that annoying waterbending savage if she's still alive.

"I can help you get up if you need to. You look pretty beat up, not that you look ugly or anything. You're definitely very pretty, you just...um..." He trails off uncertainly, and Azula once again has to mask a smirk as he transforms into a bumbling mess. If she can't have Zuko around to make fun of, this peasant is certainly the next best thing.

Despite the fact that Azula has no desire to be helped up, or have this peasant touch her, she needs to appear weak so sacrifices need to be made. Personal space is the first of many to go. "Yah that would be great."

A smile instantly appears on the peasant's face, as if he feels satisfaction from helping her out. He probably does, stupid peasant.

His hands wrap around her waist as he pulls her up, and he's blushing once again-no surprise there. It takes all of Azula's self-control and training not to burn his hands off of her torso right there and then.

Even though Azula is uncomfortable, it does not stop her from assessing the situation. She needs all the advantages she can get.

His hands are unnaturally hot, with short palms and long fingers, and now that she is standing, Azula feels dwarfed by his height. He has at least four inches on her five foot, four inch frame.

"The tables over here," he murmurs, leading her over to the far corner where a worn orange sofa and table were placed. One of his hands still remains on the small of her back, as if he is terrified she is about to pitch forward and fall at any moment; such a foolish, little peasant. He's the one that should be afraid, but Azula can't let him realize that. That would ruin all of her hard work and effort.

As she feels herself sink into the orange monstrosity of a couch, all peeling plastic and fluff, Azula tries to mask her disgust. It is soft, too soft, and she feels squeamish and sick staring at the littered stains and putrid smell that emits from it. She'd trade the stiff and hard chairs of the asylum for this any day, but as Mako stares at her hopefully, trying to make her feel better, Azula resolves herself to a fake smile (not that he knows that) and the reply of, "it's rather homey."

He lights up like an Ember Island firework, and quickly shuffles over to a makeshift stove in another corner of the room, returning with three steaming bowls of...well she'd rather not think about what's contained in the broth.

"Bolin!" He shouts, and Azula watches in interest as a head of black hair pops up from a mass of blankets tucked away in a small alcove. The figure that energetically springs forward, all jittery leaps and hops, is that of a young boy. Azula assumes by his young face that he is her age, fourteen.

"Mako!" He cries out enthusiastically, almost the opposite of his rather calm brother. "What's for dinner?" As he speaks, he propels himself onto the opposite end of the orange sofa (which wraps around the wall), and gazes excitedly up at his brother, the original peasant.

"Just the usual," the peasant replies, as he sets the three bowls and an assortment of chipped wooden sticks, that almost pass as chopsticks, on the table in front of the sofa. Azula watches him as he slides in between herself and the other peasant, and conceals a glare when he positions himself closer to her, as if he is still scared of her passing out.

It is then that the younger peasant notices her, he swivels his head to face her with astounding speed, and his pale green eyes widen with shock. "You're awake!" He exclaims cheerfully.

Azula quickly takes note on his lack of awareness, her eyes taking in his figure. He is short and stocky, with a boyish face that he would no doubt keep his entire life. "Y-yah you m-must be Bolin." She feels disgusting saying the younger peasant's name.

His eyes shine with concern and he awkwardly looks at her, like he wants to help but he doesn't know how too. It's just Azula's luck that she would be stuck with people so sickeningly nice.

He opens his mouth again and is about to say something when the older peasant puts a hand on his arm to stop him. The older peasant quickly whispers something to him, and he looks away from her and begins eating his…soup, or whatever the watery substance was.

"You should eat," the older peasant says to her, concern lacing his voice.

Azula represses her natural reaction to turn him into a pile of ashes, and tries to bury her resentment. No human, and that truly meant no human—not even Ozai, could order her around. She obeyed the Spirits—nobody else could tell her what to do. This peasant was definitely asking for an early demise.

She slowly grabbed the appalling excuse for chopsticks, her face wiped completely blank as she felt the splintering wood. The asylum may have had many, many disadvantages, but at least everything was sterile and clean.

Of course, the older peasant gives her a bright smile, as Azula lowers her chopsticks into the bowl, pulling a soggy piece of what she hopes is a dumpling. It is chewy and bland, much better tasting then she expected, though still not very appetizing. If this was going to be her new quarters (she wouldn't dare use a term of endearment like 'home'), she would have to make sure the food prepared was more delectable.

The older peasant stares at her expectantly, awaiting her response. Azula does not disappoint, "it's a lot better than I'm used to," lie "thank you," another lie.

"You're welcome," he says back before finally beginning to eat his own soup.

The rest of the meal continues that way, with Azula slowly eating the dumplings and the peasant glancing at her to make sure she hadn't keeled over.

By the time Azula finishes, which is most certainly an accomplishment considering what she had to eat, the younger peasant is already done and in the alcove he was in before. The other peasant scoops up the three bowls (hers still broth filled, as there was no way she was drinking that) and carries them back over to the makeshift kitchen of sorts.

When he walks back to her, he is nervously shuffling his feet. "Since we don't have a bed for you, I was thinking you could use mine. I can always sleep with Bolin."

She glances up with her mask of worry and helplessness in place. Azula, princess of the Fire Nation, has no desire to sleep in the bed of a peasant, but her mask, Ty Lee the peasant girl, will be forever grateful for the chance. It's too bad for Azula that to these boys she's Ty Lee.

"A-are you sure?"

The peasant nods pleasantly, though his nervousness is obvious as he ushers her to over to the alcove, his hand once again returning to the small of her back to Azula's annoyance.

The beds aren't really beds at all. They're more along the lines of an assortment of blankets haphazardly thrown on top of two worn mats; two mats that are much too close to each other for Azula's comfort.

Against her better judgement, Azula settles herself down on the mat to the left, and conceals a glance of disdain at the already sleeping figure of the younger peasant on the other mat.

The older peasant awkwardly scratches his neck as he looks down at her. "I know it's not a lot—"

"It's perfect," Azula says, cutting him off. It isn't necessarily a lie. This poor excuse of a bed would be perfect in a world where her honor crazed brother was Fire Lord—it was pathetic just like him.

The peasant brightened at this and settles down next to the younger peasant on the mat to the right. He is sleep in mere seconds.

Azula burrows into the blankets, her disgust being trumped by her pride. Everything was going according to her plan. She had a place to stay and a way to find out how much had changed while she was 'dead'. Nothing could mess this up, and she took vindictive glee knowing that both peasants were already under her control, whether they knew it or not.

Uncle read proverbs; Azula read people.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** all rights reserved to the original creators

 **Authors Note:** If either Mako or Bolin seem out of character to you, I want to remind you that right now they are both currently two years younger than they were in the first book of Legend of Korra. A lot can change in two years, and some of that will be Azula's fault. Neither of them will be referred to as peasant forever, but Azula isn't one to make a habit of actually learning people's names so it may be a couple chapters until they are deemed 'important enough' for her to bother using their names. Another thing, Azula may be a 'creature of balance', but she's still significantly prejudice. She doesn't obey anyone but the Spirits, because they're more powerful than her and she respects that.

 **Reviews are always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Great Game**

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 **Chapter Three: The Job of a Princess**

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A week into the painful endeavor that was living with peasants, Azula was met with a dilemma. One could only pretend to be shell shocked for so long and with her persona's sweet disposition, she was going to eventually have to pull her weight in the weathered loft that her hosts liked to call a home.

Now, Azula was pretty sure she was already pulling her weight. The fact that she hadn't murdered either of the peasants yet was certainly a greater feat than either of the brothers could ever imagine themselves to be possible of; however, her fellow occupants were rather unlikely to see it that way and, truth be told, would probably be aghast that 'sweet, fragile, little Ty Lee' could ever produce such a presumptuous thought.

Agni, why did she have to make her new self so disgustingly meek? In hindsight, it would have been much more strategic to have acted more aloof. A troubled soul, but certainly not one that was expected to be kind - kind to peasants that certainly didn't deserve it - and hardworking. Which is exactly what created Azula's dilemma.

As Ty Lee, she was expected to offer a form of help in exchange for the pitiful excuse of room and board she had been subjected to. It wasn't as if Azula had never worked before, for Agni's sake she had commanded battalions in one of the greatest militaries in all of history; but, acting as a general and engaging in manual labor were two very different things.

For one, Azula flat out refused to work for free and there was no way she was acting as a maid for the peasant brothers. That was an idea so far beneath her that it wasn't even considered. No, Azula would certainly not be cooking meals for I-Can't-Control-My-Bending-Chan and Hyperactive-And-Terribly-Annoying-Chan which really only left her with one choice.

Azula was going to get a job.

When she initially proposed the idea to the older peasant, he was adamantly against it.

 _("I don't like the idea of you working," he had said, eyes full of so much concern that Azula nearly laughed. He had only known her for what? A week? She knew she was blessed by Agni, but this sort of reaction was just absurd. "What if something happens to you? I don't want to find you beat up in an alley again!"_

 _"I-I-ll be fine M-Mako," she said and inwardly cringed at how disgusting his name felt upon her tongue. "I w-want t-t-to pay you b-back in some w-way for y-your hospitality."_

 _"But, you don't have to do that, Ty Lee," the peasant said. "I, we, Bolin and me, can take care of you."_

 _Azula sighed. She wanted to just agree with him, but that would subsequently result in her having to take up the mantel of housewife and that was something she refused to do no matter what, fake persona be damned. Plus, working would allow her to get out of the loft and away from the peasant brothers. Of course, it wasn't a perfect solution; but, it was her best shot._

 _"B-but I want to t-t-take care of you t-too. I want t-to work and f-feel l-like I c-can s-suport myself," she said, her voice seemingly hopeful._

 _The older peasant regarded her and, like usual, Azula had to resist the urge to stare him down and averted her eyes to the floor instead. Blasted peasant and his blasted kindness._

 _"Fine," Mako conceded. "You can work. However, I am going to find the place and make sure it's reputable."_

 _Azula smiled. That just made less work for her.)_

Now, however, she found herself outside Narook's Seaweed Noodlery, preparing for her interview. It was ironic that Mako had found a restaurant that specialized in Southern Water Tribe cuisine of all things; but, Azula had already resolved herself to her apparent fate of an honorary member of the Water Tribe and although certainly disgusted she was also a bit amused at how offended the Water Tribe Peasant would have been.

Internally confident and outwardly hesitant, she pushed open the door appearing rather demure and altogether pleasant-looking in the loose dress the peasants had salvaged for her with their limited funds.

Upon her entrance, a large, dark-skinned man moved towards her. His face seemingly etched with a permanent smile as he greeted her. "You must be Ty Lee."

"Y-yes," Azula replied softly. The stutter was honestly getting to be too much. Somehow, she was going to have to come up with a convincing way to get rid of it.

"Quiet thing, aren't you?" he said, laughing heartily. "But, if Mako recommended you there's no doubt that you're a hard worker."

Azula resisted the urge to scowl. So, she was getting this job off the merit of some lowly peasant boy? Oh far had she fallen.

"I'm Narook, by the way," he continued, "The owner of this lovely establishment."

"That's quite an a-a-accomplishment," she replied.

"Oh, you flatter me, girly," Narook said, jovially wrapping his arm around Azula's shoulders much to her disgust. "A pretty thing like you will fit right in with this cozy, little place."

'I am not going to kill him', Azula told herself and if it weren't for her impeccable self-control and rigorous training, Narook would have been burnt to a crisp by now.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course! I don't even think I need to question you. We've been understaffed lately and with a recommendation from such a loyal costumer. Why, it'd be a crime not to hire you!" he said exuberantly.

Azula blinked, for once a tad dumbfounded. Did most people not rigorously screen their employees as she did? Not doing so just sounded like a safety hazard.

"You can start working tomorrow," Narook continued. "That works for you, right? Who am I kidding, of course it does! Mako said you were free anytime. Now, let me treat you to some of our speciality seaweed noodles, on the house. And, don't you refuse; it'd make me upset."

Seething, Azula mutely sat down, having decided it to be useless to argue against such a proposition. As she dug into the terrible attempt of substance that was placed before her, one thought rang through her head.

She was going to murder those peasants.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** all rights reserved to the original creator's

 **Author's Note:** Guysssss, I am so incredibly sorry. I don't really have an extravagant excuse for not updating besides, ya' know, life; but, somehow I was able to muster up the motivation to write another chapter of this. I've got to apologize though. My writing style has certainly changed during my two year break, so if this story no longer has the same feel it had before, I'm sincerely sorry. As I previously stated, some of the character's might seem a tad OOC, but I'd like to think that their relatively close to their canon counterparts and the rest can be chalked down to plot purposes and writer's leeway. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read one of my stories. I always enjoy hearing my readers opinions on my writing, but please don't feel pressured to leave a review if that makes you uncomfortable.

 **An Avatar Fan:** Thanks man!

 **Fokusas:** Thank you for the insight!

 **Tyleepoof:** Awe, thank you :)

 **Nightmaster000:** Thanks!

 **Raijinfairy:** Well, I hope you like it!

 **JimmyHall24:** You'll just have to wait and see ;)

 **Guest:** Haha, okay teehee

 **Aristanae:** Yep, I finally updated. I hope this chapter was worth the wait even though it's probably not my best work. But, we've all got to start somewhere

 **TidePoolDevil:** :)


	4. Chapter 4

**The Great Game**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Of Noodles & Men**

* * *

"So, how did it go?" The older peasant asked, his hands rubbing together in anticipation. "Did you get the job?"

Azula nodded as she fell backwards onto the couch, allowing the fluff to consume her. She wasn't in the mood to talk to the peasants - she wasn't ever in the mood - but, now especially. Dealing with Narook had taken a lot out of her and as she tried to disappear beneath the peeling fabric, she could only pray to the Agni that they would decide to forego questioning her any further.

Of course, that didn't happen.

It never did.

And, before she knew it, the younger peasant had his face shoved in front of her own, bright green eyes peering down at her with curiosity.

It took all of Azula's willpower not to burn him right there and then. But, she wasn't Ozai, nor did she wish to jeopardize her housing, no matter how annoying her hosts were. Quite simply, there weren't many individuals in Republic City that were kind enough to take a person in without asking questions and she was in no hurry to exhaust her rather limited options.

Therefore, dealing with the hyperactive peasant and his firebending brother had become something solidified within her life. Their questions even more so.

"When's your first day? Do you have a cool uniform? Do you think you could serve me sometime? This is just so awesome and..."

The questions fell out of the peasant's mouth rapidly and as a result of having grown accustom to his ramblings, Azula tuned him out, focusing upon his brother's bemused smile instead. Although she certainly found the interrogation rather annoying, part of it amused her as well, similar to the way a god found its creation's interactions humorous.

Now, her fellow firebender was certainly no deity, but she appeared to have been incorrect in assuming that they were as radically different as she once perceived them to be. He was still a filthy underling, though. Nothing could ever change that.

"Ty Lee, are you even listening to me?" the younger peasant whined, large eyes blinking owlishly at her.

Azula sighed and the only thing that was keeping her persona from slipping was the endurance she had gained from the rigorous training of her childhood. "Y-yes, Bolin. I'm just t-tired."

"I'm sorry, Ty Lee!" He apologized. "I didn't realize! Your interview must have been hard and now you're exhausted and I've been bothering you…"

Azula cut him off with a wave of her hand, forcing a smile upon her face. It was hard to imagine that the younger peasant and her were actually the same age - well, the same age physically at least - when she had to constantly reassure him after all of their interactions.

Truth be told, it was an insanely irritating habit of his and made her rather thankful that his older brother had long outgrown that stage.

She was even more grateful when the older peasant interrupted the younger's drivel, invoking a ceasefire from the apologies.

"Perhaps, we should give her some time to rest, Bolin? After all, she's had a rather busy day." he said pleasantly, gently steering the nuisance away from her. "Tomorrow, you can question her a bit more. Isn't that right, Ty Lee?"

"Of c-course," Azula responded, despite the fact that she would most certainly not be explaining anything tomorrow.

Considering the attention span of the younger peasant, any inklings he had about her new job should be long gone by then. At least, she hoped they would be. Talking about her workplace just wouldn't work out, especially when considering the fact that she hated it.

It wasn't as if her hatred was unjustified either, because the restaurant had numerous negative characteristics - so many, that they were practically overflowing.

For one, Narook, himself, was a problem. He utterly lacked the concept of personal space, daring to touch Azula and having gone as far as to throw his arm around her shoulder like they were comrades, which they were most certainly not. Azula was so far above him that it completely eluded her how the water tribe man failed to grasp it.

Not to mention, the entire lack of screening was rather appalling. Even if Azula were to get a recommendation from a trusted ally, which two loyal customers did not constitute as, she would still conduct a detailed interview. Rules such as that were put in place for a reason and to ignore them headlessly was ignorant. For all he knew, Azula could have been a murderer. In fact, Azula was a murderer - just not in this lifetime.

The whole setup was just bizarre and, not to mention, extremely understaffed. The establishment only had four individuals working at one time which was a stark contrast to the hundreds that the Fire Nation palace enlisted. It was not as if Azula didn't realize that royalty typically had a bit more and that hundreds of people at one's beck and call was a bit irregular; however, four was still a terrifyingly low number.

In fact, with the shop having only ten workers overall, disaster awaited Azula in the future. With such limited staffing, she was projected to be working outrageous hours, which was something she was rather hoping to avoid. Sure, two hours here or there wasn't that bad, but the eight hours that Narook appeared to be implying? Well, that man might just end up being caught in a freak, accidental home-fire. A fire that Azula would have no knowledge about. No, none whatsoever.

To be entirely honest, Narook's death was an extremely appealing idea and Azula would follow through with her desire if it weren't for one thing - Narook's cooking was surprisingly good.

Although the noodles hadn't even looked a tad appetizing, they were marvelous and something that Azula would have found in the spirit world (assuming that the spirits actually ate, which, in itself, was an ongoing dilemma that she was facing). However, the fact that the delicacy was water tribe cuisine didn't make any sense to her.

How could something so amazing be produced by such lowly origins?

The answer eluded Azula and was quickly creating an existential crisis for her, which meant that Narook would be unfortunately staying alive until she figured it out.

"Sorry about that, he can be a bit of a handful," the older peasant said sheepishly, interrupting Azula's musings.

"It's fine," Azula responded and she was struck with the distinct impression that the two's bond was far more paternal than brotherly. "You a-act an awful lot like his parent or, a-at least I-I've noticed that y-you do." She said, voicing her thoughts.

Tonight, although still rather annoyed with the peasants as a whole, she was feeling rather gracious towards the firebending one. She doubted he was growing on her, since he didn't have much to offer. No, it was probably just her exhaustion as opposed to genuine friendliness. After all, Azula would never exchange pleasantries with a peasant while having no ulterior motives. Yes, it had to be her body's need for sleep - nothing more, nothing less.

The older peasant scratched his neck in embarrassment, his cheeks heating up with that ridiculous blush of his. Honestly, Azula had gotten to the point where she was willing to just teach him how to control it herself. Silly peasant.

"I-I meant it as a c-compliment," she explained, not wanting to ostracize him. Which, was thankfully for her benefit more than his; Azula wasn't ready to handle any more enigmatic kindness on her part.

"Well, thank you," he responded and a funny look appeared upon his face as he sat down on the opposite end of the coach from her.

Azula dipped her head in response, staring out at the illuminated Republic City and its roaring nightful.

The lights seemed to gaze back at her, beckoning her forwards into the new age with their twinkling eyes as they shone invitingly and ever so tempting.

Azula wanted to leap up then, search the city for its secrets as the crisp midnight air enveloped her. She hadn't felt like this for awhile, no, not since she had met her match in Avatar Aang - not since she had looked into Koh's eyes and saw herself reflected back.

Because, for the first time in many years, Azula felt alive.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** All rights reserved to the original creators

 **Author's Note:** So, more of a filler chapter than anything else, but we got to see some nifty character development from Azula. Yep, the "firebending peasant" is still dumb and annoying, but he's okay to talk to sometimes...it's not like they're friends or anything teehee. I've also got to apologize. I kept trying to write the first part in the present tense for some reason so it's all wonky and doesn't flow as nicely as usual, plus I'm not sure if I caught all of my slip-ups. So, if you see anything, please give me a heads up! I'll appreciate it a lot. Also, this isn't edited that well since I'm dead from XC starting up (don't competitively run - it's rough) so feel free to point out grammatical errors. I'll try to fix them :)

 **JimmyHall24:** I'm going to be honest, I don't really like that pairing that much simply because I see the two of them as rather incompatible. Korra is a worthy avatar and I enjoy her character; however, I can't see Azula choosing someone so impulsive and naïve. Korra's definitely going to be important in this story and I plan on pairing up with another girl (as a hint), but I don't think that girl's going to be Azula. If this causes you to abandon the fic, I understand. Thank for sticking with me this far :)

 **Aristanae:** Thank you so much; I'm glad you like it! And, yes, the spirit world is going to be making another reappearance rather soon.

 **Fukosas:** You've got that right!


End file.
